


The Director's Cut

by sangueuk



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-09
Updated: 2011-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sangueuk/pseuds/sangueuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s PWP, folks! There’s three handsome officers on shore-leave, in a house after dinner and they’re wondering what they should have for dessert. Those boys like doing naughty things including the gratuitous wearing of cowboy boots!</p><p>Intriguing snippet: <i> Jim didn’t bother clearing his throat – it wouldn’t have made any difference. Sometimes, truth be told, he felt like a spare part. There they were, kissing like it was the three minute warning and they’d better damn well make the moment as full and beautiful as possible, limited as they were with just one tongue and one set of hands each.<br/></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Director's Cut

**Author's Note:**

> A response to a gorgeous fic, 'Light up my Room' by slash4femme - http://slash4femme.livejournal.com/39093.html - It’s not necessary to read this in order to enjoy this since mine has no plot but I recommend you read it at some point and her own sequel which are lovely.
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I mean no offence and court no profits, these boys belong to others more talented and deserving, I merely borrow them, play a while then return them all cleaned up and smiley.
> 
> Thanks to abigail839 for beta reading.

**The Director’s Cut**

It was late when they’d finished dinner. The night was quiet, except for the crickets and the creak of floorboards as Jim leaned on the rail. It was clear and cold, leaving him wishing he’d had a warm body up against him so he could linger with his brandy and cigar and soak up what the constellations were _supposed_ to look like. Five years and he’d forgotten. Shit.

He didn’t bother clearing his throat – it wouldn’t have made any difference. Sometimes, truth be told, he felt like a spare part. There they were, kissing like it was the three minute warning and they’d better damn well make the moment as full and beautiful as possible, limited as they were with just one tongue and one set of hands each.

He could wait it out like he usually did and try not to feel like the last kid chosen for the team and try to remember that actually he was blessed to a) witness this and b) sometimes to be allowed in on the ride. Tonight he wasn’t feeling grateful - he was feeling horny. Correction - he was feeling like he might need to remind these two who the fuck was in charge.

“Snap out of it,” he said, releasing the screen door with a clatter.

They fell apart like rutting stags, spines all upright, legs curled around each other, looking a bit put out, like he’d turned the lights on or something. And there was pretty much the sight of one of his favorite things ever - Spock with his hair all mussed. His face, by contrast, toed the line and re-arranged itself into some semblance of neutrality, despite his bruised lips and blown pupils. It would have been too much to ask any respect from his CMO, who had decided to slump back on the couch, wanton and unrepentant, panting visibly, one hand on his bulge and another thrown around Spock’s neck.

“He’s feeling left out,” he said to Spock. His voice was warm and fuck-heavy.

Spock raised an eyebrow, allowing a flicker of amusement on one corner of his well-kissed mouth.

“Poor _baby_?” His voice deep, modulated, a comical contrast to the teen-speak he threw in because Jim knew he liked to be funny even if he insisted he didn’t have a sense of humor. Bones raised an eyebrow right back at him with a slight shrug to confirm the fact. Jim could just imagine Bones using that same expression about him earlier, heavy with sarcasm.

“Yes, Spock.” Jim snapped from the door. “That _is_ what we humans say. _Commander_.”

And while Bones inevitably rolled his eyes in response to Jim’s tone, Spock grasped Bones by the wrist and untangled his arm. Jim watched as his Number One took three long steps towards him and stood by his side with his hands folded behind his back. His black pants were undone, his white linen shirt was unbuttoned to the waist and his collar stood up on one side; he had that look on his face, the one reserved for when he was at Jim’s right hand when visiting diplomats materialized on the transporter pads. Without looking at him, Jim held out his empty glass and noted with satisfaction how Spock’s telepathy didn’t just stretch to matters spiritual but was damn useful for when he needed a top up.

He sauntered towards the couch, past the table where he scooped up a cherry from the fruit bowl and pushed it between his lips. Spock may have owned Bones’ heart, but Jim knew his friend had a kink for his lips that melted the snark right out of him. He rolled the cherry around, snaking his tongue around its smooth, plump buttocks until, eyes on Bones, he pursed then puckered his lips to suck it into his mouth. Bones watched him, dark-eyed, probably unaware that his mouth had fallen open slightly. Jim chewed and swallowed, the sweetness coating his tongue and teeth and burning his throat. He nudged the pit to the front of his mouth, curling his tongue to hold it out till he could scoop it between finger and thumb and toss it in a perfectly judged arc towards the table. It landed with the faintest of sounds where it bumped the bottle of brandy, joining the debris comprised of a few crumbs of rice, napkins, a pair of chopsticks, candles and an open box of cigars.

Spock was back by Jim’s side now with a fresh glass of brandy.

“Thank you, Spock.”

“You’re welcome.”

Bones shifted on the couch. Jim liked that stubble, liked how you only had to take Bones out of sickbay, out of his uniform, wait and he transformed from all held together into something bordering on wild - if you only knew which buttons to push. Jim licked his lips and then sucked the tip of his thumb briefly. Truly, he thought not for the first time, he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Bones managed this look of ‘fuck me’ and ‘don’t you dare’ with a shift of his hips, in the way his sleeve fell open at his wrists revealing a bump of veins that he touched and traced any opportunity he got. Doing up buttons seemed to be too much hard work for Bones.

“Sweet,” Jim said. He sipped his brandy, his nostrils smarting at the intrusion of the acrid fumes. He took the opportunity to display a little bit of tongue again and cocked his head at Spock who nodded back.

“Why are you both looking at me like that?” Bones managed to say. He shifted his boots on the floor with a faint scrape.

Jim and Spock didn’t so much exchange looks as trade them.

“I believe, Leonard, Jim wants to remind us that he is our commanding officer.”  
Without the visual, this might have been Spock on the bridge.

Jim nodded. The brandy helped smooth the smugness out a little, but really, right now, what he wanted to do was leap onto that dining table and crow his delight - he really did have the _greatest_ job.

“Well, I fucking know that, Jim, but we’re on shore leave, what are you…” Bones looked at him, at Spock. “Oh-“

“Dessert, Bones.”

The candles in the center of the table flickered like that moment in a horror flick before the devil enters the room. But there was only Spock and Jim.

“We’re going upstairs,” Jim said simply, “And I’m choosing the teams.” Dark shadows leapt on the wall behind him as he gestured.

Spock held out a hand. “Follow me, Leonard.” Bones stood up, all long legs and suspicion, and allowed Spock to lead him by the shirt-sleeve past Jim. Jim wanted to go last so he could enjoy the sight of their asses ahead of him; he was, after all, a meat and potatoes kind of guy when it came to his kinks, and two denim-clad asses were pretty much all it took to get him hard. He picked up the candelabra, ignoring the warm drip of wax on his wrist, and strolled up to the bedroom, setting the candles down on the dresser and pulling the rocking chair away from the bed.

“Spock, undress him and then undress yourself.” He thumbed the dried wax off his hand. “Bones needs to keep his boots on and you wear the hat.” He pointed as he gave directions – all that was missing was a chair with his name on the back and jodhpurs. Maybe he could hint at one for the next big birthday.

“What about you, Jim? You just going to sit there holdin’ your dick?” Yeah, he’d like that.

“Looks like Spock isn’t the only telepath in the room.” Jim smirked, crossing then uncrossing his legs, the chair lilting from the movement, the spindles creaking where they supported his back.

Bones stood, arms folded, trying to ignore Spock who sucked at his earlobes from behind, all the while peeking at Jim, his arms wrapped around Bones’ waist. His fingers tugged out the little bit of shirt tail that was still trapped inside his waistband. Jim could smell potpourri behind him on the dresser. The smell of spice and roasted meat would complement the decadent scene in front of him a little better.

He took a deep, happy breath as he watched Spock going about the task of undressing Bones logically. First, he guided Bones so he sat on the bed facing Jim’s chair; then Spock nudged his legs apart with one long finger. He crouched down with his back to Bones and took a long thigh between his as he struggled the first boot off. It hit the floorboard with a clunk. He arched a brow when he saw Bones didn’t wear socks, caught Jim’s eye and removed the next a little more easily since Bones was actually co-operating now. Spock paired the boots and placed them to one side. Then he unraveled his long body and pulled Bones to his feet again. He kissed him on the temple and Bones, Jim thought, seemed to temporarily forget he was being watched as he lowered his eyes and rested his hand on Spock’s jaw to nudge him close and kiss him long and hard.

“Now the shirt,” Jim said, pitching his voice deeper. He’d have to keep a tight rein on these two; they’d been busting to do this since he’d interrupted them earlier. Well so had he, thank you, and he wasn’t picking up the scraps this time.

Jim never took the fluid working relationship he and Spock shared for granted. As First Officer, he always seemed to know what Jim was thinking, even if it was to disagree with him. Now he created what he might have called a series of ‘pleasing tableaus’ for Jim who sat legs apart, very hard cock in hand, soaking it all up. He occasionally took a sip of his brandy, rolling it round his tongue as he watched. Bones made every effort to maintain his ‘long-suffering’ look but was close to allowing his dirty mouth loose, if his bulge was anything to go by.

Spock undid the buttons, the few that were still fastened, slowly and deliberately, occasionally leaning close to plant a dry kiss on the new bit of exposed skin and muscle. He stepped back so Jim could enjoy the sight of partially clad Bones, the shirt fallen open, the dark blue accentuating Bones’ olive skin. Bones knew exactly how good he looked, not because he was vain or because he spent any amount of time in front of the mirror, but because he could see how the tempo increased as Jim’s wrist worked up and down and how he shifted about in his chair. He’d have to stop or his plans would go awry.

“Spock, “Jim said, raising the hand holding the glass, “take his jeans off and Bones, you need to put those boots back on.”

The jeans had obligingly started to make their own way down, and Jim could see a tuft of hair peeking out over the zipper. Spock kneeled to grab the denim just below Bones’ thighs. He arched up into his hand like a cat while Bones stroked his hair and, with the consideration for his captain that Kirk had already remarked on internally, he positioned himself to the side so Jim could enjoy how Bones‘ cock stood to attention. Evidence he had more respect for his seniority than Bones ever did. No surprise there.

“Want a drink?” Jim said.

Bones’ eyebrow disappeared upwards for a second. Jim beckoned lazily to his lap. “Boots first.”

“Idiot,” Bones muttered. He bent to wrestle the boots back on and both Jim and Spock were snake-charmed by his cock as it moved and swayed before him. “There,” he said. “Your wish is my fucking command. Sir.” More swaying as he moved towards Jim, and in one, long-legged, easy movement he mounted Jim’s thighs, trapping his cock under his ass and wrapping his arms around Jim’s neck. “Now give me a drink.” It was a little awkward with the chair’s armrests restricting them and the fact that it rocked gently each time one of them shifted, which – given the need for friction - was a lot.

“You aren’t going to get motion sickness, are you?” Jim said, grinning and running a finger across Bones’ chest, through the hairs, He found a dark nipple and swirled it with his thumb, watching Bones like a hawk, waiting for him to give in and stop bitching. Bones widened his eyes. That look said, _fuck off_ , he knew it well.

Jim drained the last of the brandy into his mouth, taking care not to swallow. He pulled Bones’ mouth to his, transferring the contents into the warm depths. He sucked and kissed at Bones’ throat and felt his Adam’s apple shift as he swallowed. His neck was sticky and smelled pungent from the alcohol as stubble rasped at his tongue. He moved up to an earlobe and remembered Spock who still stood at the foot of the bed, his arms behind his back, fully dressed.

Edging back slightly but keeping a hold of the earlobe, Jim nodded and watched with barely guarded lust as the Vulcan responded to his signal. Spock crossed his hands at his waist and tugged upwards over his head to remove the t-shirt and place it on the blanket box along with the rest of the discarded clothing.

Bones ground his hips as close to Jim’s groin as he could and he took the glass out of his hand. He stood to reach behind Jim and deposit it on the dresser which brought his beautiful cock tantalizingly close to Jim’s mouth – although both of them knew Jim wouldn’t be sucking any dick tonight; he had too much directing to do.

“Remember that time, Jim, when we did this on your chair? An’ I rode you hard? “Bones whispered into this ear. _Jesus_ , that voice! How could he forget any of those precious times when he had Bones to himself? Bones guided Jim’s hand to his cock and squeezed his fingers shut, starting him off on a gentle pumping motion, which was considerate of him.

Jim might have forgotten to contribute at all with the distracting sight of Spock shucking out of his jeans, his beautiful ass bending away from him as he searched under the bed for the hat. You only had to tell Spock something once.

Bones chewed on Jim’s lip. “Wanna fuck me, Jim, stick this up my ass?” He ground over Jim’s bulge again, stilling Jim’s hand so he could pull himself back from going too far.

“Not yet,” Jim choked out, a little amazed that he managed to say anything past Bones’ neck since all the blood had left his brain and was centered in his groin.

“Sure you can wait, dahlin’? I know someone who’ll fuck me good if you aren’t up to it.” Bones’ breath was moist against his face; it was laced with brandy and chocolate and the faint tang of soya sauce. Shit, he’d come soon without even being touched if he didn’t stand up and shake this hot bastard off his lap.

“Get the lube,” he said and when Bones lifted up off him, Jim unzipped his pants and kicked them off. “I’ll get him ready but I want you to fuck him,” he said, stalking toward Spock who had made himself comfortable on the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles. His arms were behind his head like he was gazing up at the clouds and they were more interesting than their cocks or something.

“Up,” Jim said. And obligingly, Spock grabbed his ankles and eased them up to his ass, ready for whatever it was that Jim had planned for him. He could sense Bones hovering, ready to dive onto his lover soon as Jim gave him a chance, but Jim wasn’t going to allow it – not this time anyway. He held out his left hand and Bones smeared the gel on three fingers. How Spock managed to look so composed was a marvel to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bones sighed at him. Jim tried to ignore the fact that this made something stick in his throat for a second. He focused on Spock’s reasonably steady expression. His eyes were dark in the candlelight but Jim could see the strain around his mouth. He loved watching that edifice crumple – it was better than coming sometimes, like winning a battle. He worked one finger in as Bones walked round the bed and sat next to them both, first kissing Jim and then, with a free hand resting on Jim’s wrist so he could keep time, he began to fuck Spock’s mouth with his tongue.

“Nice work, Bones,” Jim growled, soaking up the faintest little whines that even a Vulcan couldn’t keep in under such pressure. “He’s ready.”

They stood and swapped places, Jim watching with glee as Bones stepped onto the bed, boots and all, looking like it was the most normal thing in the world to be balancing on a single cot in snakeskin boots and nothing else. He knelt between Spock’s legs and slicked himself. He wasn’t about to ask permission but when Jim’s hissed, “Fuck,” Bones chose to take it as an order and began easing his cock into (and Jim knew this from experience) what was an exceptionally hot ass. Temperature wise, that was.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this all day, you bastard,” Bones grunted.

“Are you addressing me or the captain?” Spock managed to say. His eyes were closed tight, his cheeks flushed green. Jim thought it might be a good idea to pinch one of his nipples just as he saw Bones sink in that last precious inch. Spock bucked off the bed, his face _finally_ contorted into a human expression of unbridled feeling.

“I’ve been half hard all day, thinking about burying myself into you...fuckin’ you like this, you… _fuck… you Vulcan h_ -.”

Sweet words, Jim thought wryly, biting his lips, rubbing himself languorously. Bones’ drawl ran straight to where it counted again. He didn’t want to rush things, he wasn’t through. He slid his free hand down the rough hairs on Spock’s chest and belly, towards where their groins momentarily bumped together as Bones worked up a head of steam. Spock’s hands gripped on the covers and on Jim’s shirt, which he still wore he suddenly realized. He liked that a lot, made Spock vulnerable in his nakedness – it was a good look on him. Jim’s fingers moved towards Bones. “You need to stop.” Bones was startled.

“Son of a bi- “but he did, slid half out and let Jim snake his fingers around the base of his cock to still him. “Andorian. Shingles, “he croaked – doing his bit to slow things down. “Fuck, Jim. What are you playing at?”

“I told you - dessert. We needed to let our stomachs settle.” He slapped Bones on the buttock firmly, “Out!” and took his place between Spock’s knees. He was bigger than Bones so, although Spock was plenty stretched, he wanted to do this seamlessly. Bones took Spock’s hand and watched him as he slicked up and slid in with one movement – hard. A captain fucking, that’s what he was. Jim was half amused by his internal monologue as he drove in, and caught Bones’ dark eyes looking at his pale cock disappear into the dark entrance.

“Now that is a fine sight,” he drawled.

“I…” Spock said.

“Yes, dahlin?” Bones whispered. Jim watched their fingers twine together.

Jim didn’t hold back the sounds, he didn’t need to. It was Bones and Spock who fucked about with this enigmatic bullshit. “Shit, shit…” he mumbled watching as Bones walked his fingers slowly down Spock’s belly.

“Just tell him,” Jim said, pushing up onto his arms, panting from the effort sweat dripping onto Spock’s skin. “Bones, lift his leg a little.” Bones obliged, and that unwound Spock a little when Jim slid against his prostate.

“I…” Spock rolled his head around, trying to find some composure.

Bones inched his fingers a little closer and ran his tongue across his teeth. “Smartass seems at a loss for words,” he said to Jim. “What’s the probability of that, eh, Spock?”

“Tell him what you want, Spock,” Jim said again, pulling out slowly and then slid back in, delighting in the way Spock’s mouth widened a little then closed some each time he thrust in and out. “You wanna hear what kills me about the two of you?” Jim faltered, taking a moment to squeeze the base of his cock, sit back a bit.

“Not really,” Bones said.

“I find myself interested, Jim.”

“You’ve discovered the power of speech, I see,” Bones said, rubbing himself a little harder, letting out the occasional hiss and gasp. He watched Spock’s face unveil his human side and how the muscles loosened a little at a time in response to Jim’s cock.

“Easy to talk when it’s not about what he needs.” Jim faltered. “So, what kills me about you two is…” he stilled a moment,” you’re like peas in a pod.” He slid forward again, now he’d said it.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding me. Spock’s the right colour, I’ll give you that, but how are we ever the same?”

“You both put huge amounts of effort into hiding your feelings. He – “nodding at Spock-- “because he’s a Vulcan and that’s what they do, and you because – “

“Because I’m a guy, Jim.”

“No, Bones. Here you’re with us, that’s irrelevant.” He looked at Bones, leaned over to extract a heated kiss out of him. “Tell me what you want, Bones.”

Bones considered. He looked at Spock. “I –“

“Put your mouth on me, Leonard.” Spock sighed. Good man – that was the ticket. Bones licked his lips at the thought.

“I want you to fuck me on my knees while I suck Spock till he comes,” Bones said, “An’ I wanna come first.”

“Greedy.” This might be a mutiny. Or Pandora’s box.

“Hey, you’re the one who finished up all the brandy.” Bones straddled across Spock’s chest and backed down towards Jim who was still half in Spock. “And I want the hat.” The bed creaked under them. He kept scooting down until he heard the schlop of Jim’s cock, nudged his arse further back until he had his mouth over Spock and Jim was practically forced off the foot of the bed.

“I doubt I’ll –“Spock began.

“I know, baby,” Bones said, soft as cream melting on pie. Bending down to take Spock’s cock into his mouth, Jim tilted that lovely ass at just the right angle. Jim worked a generously lubed finger in quick. Bones tended to be a bit demanding at this point and Jim wanted him to be able to walk tomorrow.

He could hear Spock moaning into his pillow, one arm thrown across his face, the other hand stroked Bones’ chocolate hair while he rose up and down; Bones was keeping a slow pace, so that things could work out as he’d planned them.

Jim looked at the heels of the boots, and nudged them further from each other. He needed to mind he didn’t end up off the end of the bed again, and he decided it would be safer if he kept one foot on the floor.

“Let go a second, Bones, I need to --“He held his hips and eased Bones’ ass back onto his cock, and once Jim was all in, Bones could take that green tinged cock back into his pouty mouth.

Jim realized as he felt the tight ring give as he forced in that this might have been what he had been thinking about all day too. “Jesus, Bones, you’ve got about two… seconds. If that.” He tried to reach round and grab his cock but it was already like juggling plates. “Jerk yourself off. Hard. I wanna hear you.”

Fortunately the bastard couldn’t answer seeing as his mouth was full. Jim was sure he’d still find something to grumble about even with one cock up his ass and another in his mouth.

Jim looked at his cock disappearing into Bones, and lost track of what was going on. It was like an earthquake had upended the room and them with it as he thrust forward, coming hard. The heat of that orgasm burned his thighs, his belly, and the small of his back in erratic rolls that had him shouting out. His nails dug into Bones’ hips, overwhelmed by the sight of Spock’s mouth in a silent O, his eyes rolling back in his head, loving how Bones’ finely muscled back writhed under him.

He could hear Bones swearing at a radioactive level, “Fuck me _hard_ , you bastard,” which meant that Spock must have come - it was all too much. “ _Bones_.” He choked as he eked the last wave of feeling out of his groin and fell onto the tangle of sweat-soaked limbs in front of him. He stayed that way until the blood slowly returned to his thighs and back. He immediately ached with the awkwardness of the angle and had to stand up.

Bones had slumped over onto his side, come gleaming in the candle light all over his hand, wrist, and chest where he’d fallen across Spock, but not a drop to be seen anywhere near his mouth.

Spock was asleep, his features returned to a softer version of his normal. Jim chuckled as he managed to stand, pulling his shirt off finally and wiping his cock, then Bones with it.

“Great hat,” Jim said, taking it and adjusting it to what he hoped was a rakish angle. “Want a hand with those boots?” Bones had managed to crawl up closer to Spock and rested his head on his chest.

“I’m asleep,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse.

Jim opened the blanket box and took out two blankets. One he spread out over the two snoring sides of ham and the other he wrapped around his shoulders. He picked up his jeans and the brandy glass, blew out the candles and backed out of the room. Be nice to sit out on the porch a while and look at the stars, he thought, closing the door behind him.

 **~FIN~**


End file.
